Strange Silent Storms
by esompthin
Summary: Quiet Jamilton Fluff requested by SassyTigerLilly; which I made a college coffee shop au with a lot of rain. Thomas is a barista who's long shifts get better when a quiet boy keeps coming in. Feat. selectively mute!Alex and super protective!Jefferson.


Working at a coffee shop was perhaps the most obnoxious, distasteful thing Thomas had ever done in his entire life. To stoop so low as to serve the general public - who are complete and utter asshats - in such a demeaning way was truly the biggest stain on Thomas' character.

But, when Daddy cuts off his allowance and James (damn him) believes in hard work, what can one do except for die or get a part-time job? As the morning rush comes barreling through the doors, Thomas thinks to himself that the two are actually quite similar.

Humans are the most rude, impatient creatures on Earth. Thomas' mama taught him right. He knows to wait his turn and to be kind to strangers. But these motherfuckers? They're practically animals as they demand double shots of this and hold that. They tap their toes and glare at him as he makes them their precious drinks; without so much as a thanks, let alone a tip.

James tells him to suck it up; it's not that bad. But he's not the one that comes home sweaty and sticky (and not in the fun way).

On the third morning shift of his week, when he was already weak and not nearly awake enough to deal with angry, late assistants, Thomas was greeted to a new sight.

For you see, his customers always bark out their orders; quick, heartless, and to the point. They request their drinks like they're auditioning to be the next auctioneer. But on this morning; there was someone who stood out.

When the entire room is screaming at you, the most intriguing figure is the one that remains silent.

The boy was the same age as him, if not a little younger. They probably went to the same college. He had bags under his eyes so bad they were practically gucci. His hair was pulled up into a bun; but several fly aways hung down by his chin. He fidgeted with his backpack, one hand stuffed in his pocket. Thomas kept glancing over to him; since he wasn't speaking on the phone, wasn't smiling, wasn't even watching one of the many TVs. He simply stood there, looking at his feet, as he shifted slightly.

When it came to be his turn to order, Thomas had his marker ready, about to reach for whatever size cup the man requested. But instead of an order being rattled off; there was a piece of paper being slid across the counter.

Thomas raised an eyebrow, but picked it up carefully.

It was crumbled slightly, clearly worried at. But the words were still eligible:

 _One large, black coffee_

 _Please._

Thomas shot the boy a look, but he was looking away. There was a line behind him, so the barista quickly got to work. He was suppose to write down a name on the cup, so Thomas awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Um, can I have a name?" Thomas asked.

The boy's head snapped up to him, eyes wide. He opened his mouth, but immediately shut it, like he wasn't sure. Thomas quickly put the poor kid out of his misery.

"It's okay, I'll just remember this one's yours." Thomas abided, stepping away to fill the cup.

The man didn't say anything as he paid, although his ears were turning pink and he appeared to be scowling at himself. Thomas smiled as he handed back his change and shot him a wink. He was pretty cute, after all. This only made the boy blush darker, causing a soft chuckle to dance past Thomas' lips.

The boy shuffled out of the coffee shop, leaving Thomas to drone on and on with significantly less attractive clientele.

* * *

The next time The Boy comes in, Thomas decides that his nameless name deserves capital letters. The day was winding down as the sun is slowly setting in the sky and no one, apart from college students, orders any coffee.

Due to the lack of customers, Thomas was attempting to complete a crossword puzzle. He had a toothpick in his mouth to look more like a southern prick than usual, and he was absentmindedly twirling his pen. He didn't notice the door opening, nor the little bell signaling it's movement. But he did notice the paper being slid in front of his gaze.

He huffed slightly, reading the order, because that meant he had to do his job. But then he remembered that people don't usually write down their orders. His gaze flicked up to see The Boy, adamantly looking away from him.

Today, The Boy was wearing dark-rimmed glasses and a fluffy sweater. Thomas' heart was far too gay for this view. He lit up into a bright smile as he grabbed the large cup, "You're back."

The Boy blinked, surprised Thomas said anything to him other than asking for his name. He watched as Thomas chuckled and walked over to the coffee pot.

As he returned with the Boy's order, once again black coffee, Thomas took a moment to admire how the setting sun warmed the boy's skin; de-aging him slightly.

"That all?" Thomas asked as he run up the overly priced drink.

The Boy nodded, pulling out his money from his pocket. He always paid in cash. Thomas wished one day he'd pay with card, so he could sneak a glance at his name. But for now, he was just The Boy. It kinda suited him.

Thomas slid his coffee over to him and handed him some change. His eyes fluttered slightly, a smirk pulling on his lips. The Boy's cheeks lit up as he stumbled away, awkwardly smiling.

"Hate to see him go, but love to watch him leave." Thomas mumbled to himself, sighing as the door closed behind The Boy.

* * *

The third time The Boy came in; Thomas already made his drink for him. The Boy slid his little paper over the counter, and Thomas just slid the coffee over to him, watching his expression. The Boy appeared surprised; he slowly picked up the cup, pulling off the lid to inspect the drink.

"You've been here twice and ordered the same thing. I took a wild guess." Thomas explained. He picked up The Boy's paper, "and look, I was right."

A small, lopsided smile spread across The Boy's face, and Thomas practically felt his heart in his throat. He forced himself to look away from such a cute expression. Fuck this adorable mute child.

When they exchanged money and change, Thomas' fingers burned pleasantly at The Boy's touch. The two blushed and smiled like middle schoolers, and even hours later, Thomas was still smiling.

* * *

"He's so cute, guys!" Thomas groaned, falling down onto his bed dramatically. "Like, unfairly cute!"

James hummed in response, scrolling through his phone. He was used to Thomas' dramatics by now.

Burr, however, grew slightly annoyed with the topic of discussion, "Yes, you've mentioned that many times already, Jefferson. This mystery boy is adorable, he has great hair, and intelligent eyes. Yes, we've heard it all."

Thomas rolled over onto his belly, kicking his legs up behind him, "Get your uninterested hetero ass outta here. He's more than _just_ cute, I assure you. He's, he's- ugh!"

James helpfully patted Thomas' thigh, still looking at his phone. "It's certainly interesting that you went for the shy type. You've never showed interest in meekness before."

"I don't think he's shy, though." Thomas mused, twisting to look at his friend, "at least, he doesn't give off a 'shy' vibe, you know?"

Aaron stared at him, "No."

Thomas scoffed, "You wouldn't understand, you're heartless."

"I most certainly am not."

"Are too!"

James tutted as he tapped something on his screen, "Boys, please."

* * *

The fourth time The Boy came in, he stayed.

And oh, didn't that just drive Thomas mad. Throughout his shift, he kept glancing over to The Boy. He was sitting in a corner table by the windows. Mostly, he was typing things out rapidly on his computer. You could always tell who was an angry typer; who became obsessed with the words they wrote. It was in the way they sat close to their screens; the way their fingers never once paused. The Boy was like that.

When he wasn't typing, he was staring out the window thoughtfully. His hand would cup his chin delicately as his eyes gained this glassy cover. Thomas wanted - no, needed - to know what he was thinking.

Part of Thomas wanted to look up and see The Boy watching him. But that moment never came.

 _I'm such an idiot_. Thomas chastised himself when he realized what he was doing. Forcing himself to get back to work, he didn't notice when The Boy left without a word. Thomas would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed when he looked up and saw the table empty.

* * *

Every time after that, The Boy stayed to finish his drink and work quietly. He always picked the same table, by the windows, in perfect view of the register. Thomas happily indulged in watching the way he brushed his hair out of his face distractedly.

James came in near the end of one of Thomas' shifts to find him distracted. It didn't take a genius to see why.

"So, that's him?" James said, leaning against the counter. Thomas jerked forward when he realized James was openly staring.

"Be subtle, dipshit, he'll notice you!" Thomas hissed, reaching over the counter to swat at his friend.

James hummed and continued to stare, "So that's a yes."

"I fucking hate you."

"Why's my drink taking so long, Tommy?"

"Hate. You."

As Thomas passed James his coffee, he sighed deeply and adamantly looked away from his friend. "I was right though, wasn't I? He's cute as all hell."

James twisted his mouth in the way that he only did when he disagreed with something, but didn't want to voice such opinions. Thomas gasped loudly and dramatically, because "James, my dear friend, are you absolutely _blind_!?"

"He's certainly not the cutest person you've ever had a crush on." James said, thankfully lowering his voice. "I'd rather say that French boy you liked is much cuter."

Thomas scowled, having his tastes be insulted so openly. "You can go now, Madison."

James chuckled, apparently expecting that reaction. "Alright, alright. I'll see you later. If you buy me lunch, I'll happily listen to you gush over his not-cute ass."

Jefferson stuck out his tongue childishly. James poked his nose and smiled warmly as he left. Thomas sighed, settling his chin in his hand as he watched his friend leave. Slowly, almost instinctively, Thomas' gaze slid to The Boy.

He felt his heart stutter when he realized that The Boy was watching him. Staring. They made eye contact, and he quickly looked away. Thomas rapidly found something to busy himself with. Wiping down the coffee machines, his thoughts swirled.

 _Oh God, did he hear them?!_

 _No, no, he didn't. They were quiet._

 _Why was he looking at him?!_

 _Finally caught him staring._

 _Oh God, oh God, oh God-_

When Thomas gathered the courage to look back at The Boy's table, his shoulders sunk as he observed the empty chair.

Ah. He left. Of course.

* * *

As the door to the shop chimed, Thomas mentally groaned. He wasn't in the best mood today. It was raining, and things have been blessfully slow. But now he had to do his _actual_ job.

When Thomas turned around, he almost dropped the pen he was holding. Because The Boy was there. But he wasn't alone.

Sopping wet and clinging to the arm of a taller man, The Boy looked up at him from under long eyelashes. Thomas' gaze flicked to the man that was with his Boy. He had tan skin, an abundance of freckles, and dark, wavy hair.

The man whispered something into the Boy's ear, which made him blush darkly and swat away the guy. Thomas bit the inside of his cheek as The Boy's grip tightened on the man. Thomas missed most of what the guy said, not realizing that the annoying buzzing in his ears was a human voice.

"-black, large, for him please. And I'll have a chocolate frappe, with whipped cream please."

Thomas grumpily wrote down the two orders on separate cups. Then, a brilliant idea came to him. He looked expectantly at the guy and said, "Can I get some names for these?"

"Yeah." The guy said, "John for the frappe, and Alex for the coffee."

 _Alex_. Thomas' gaze flicked over to _Alex_ , who was turned, watching the rain out the windows across the room. Lightening flashed and Alex stepped closer to John.

Thomas turned away when John started whispering into Alex's ear again. His stomach churned with barely-held-back envy. Thomas almost slammed the cups down on the counter, but he didn't want to startle Alex. Instead he slid them across the table top with some ferocity.

"That'll be 8.53." Thomas said, looking to John, quirking an eyebrow in challenge. He knows he shouldn't be like this. He should be kind to customers. And this 'John' guy did nothing wrong, but dammit, fuck him. Alex was _his boy_. He just didn't know it yet.

Alex scrambled to pull his wallet out of his pocket. Usually he had his money ready beforehand. But John gently stopped him with just a tap to his wrist. Thomas looked away as John counted his own money, Alex still hanging onto his arm. "I got it, Hammy."

Alex scowled, but, obviously, didn't object. Thomas took John's money quickly and returned the change without looking up. He turned away before anything else could happen.

Fuck Alex for having a cute boyfriend. Fuck John for being cuter than Thomas. Fuck Alex for being taken. Fuck himself for liking him to begin with. Fuck.

Thomas looked up only once while they were there. They were at Alex's table, in clear view. Alex kept glancing to the window, watching the rain with clear visible anxiety. This only caused John to be the best boyfriend ever, and hold his hand and whisper softly and joke quietly. Thomas felt sick.

Just as he was about to turn away and go back to angrily counting sugar packets, Alex glanced over at him. Thomas froze under his gaze. Alex's shoulders slowly, almost deliberately, relaxed. Thomas felt himself smile and give a tiny wave. Alex pulled his hand out of John's grasp to wave back.

Something about that made Thomas' heart do a summersault.

John turned to look at him, smirking, he turned back to Alex and said something. Alex's face lit up in another dark blush. Thomas went back to counting sugar, not wanting to think about their obvious flirting.

He was almost thankful when they left, Alex once again clinging to John's arm.

* * *

Thomas discovered a pattern.

Alex came in whenever he damn well pleased. It didn't matter what the time was. It didn't matter if it was socially acceptable to drink coffee at that time. If the store was open; Alex was there. And he was there alone.

Unless.

He was there alone _unless_ it was raining. Then, Alex was accompanied by someone else, usually John. And every time he was accompanied by someone, Alex was clinging to their arm, practically merging into the other person's side. None were quite as affectionate as John, which led Thomas to still believe that they were boyfriends.

This pattern continues until one frightful day when the storm is damn near Biblical. The streets are flooded, as the drains cannot take in the water quick enough. Thunder shakes the ground with each rumble. Thomas was able to show up to work before things got nasty. But when the sky opened up; it poured. Like a there was an ocean in the sky, and someone tore a hole in the bottom of it; spilling it's contents onto the earth.

There had not been a single customer in two hours. Thomas sat on the counter, not caring if it was considered "unsanitary". He took selfies and messed around on his phone. Occasionally, when a particularly loud clap of thunder would snap through the air, Thomas would look up and watch the rain fall.

Thomas was texting James when a strange sound went off. It was a soft musical jingle. That wasn't his phone ring tone. What was that?

It hit him only a second later as he looked up. The door.

Leaning against the now-closed door was a very, very wet Alex. Dripping from head to toe and shaking like a chihuahua, the boy stared at him. Thomas jumped off the counter without thinking. He ran to Alex, reaching out.

"Jesus, did you walk here? During this storm!? What the hell?!" Thomas said, already pulling Alex's jacket off of him. The shirt underneath is soaked through so much it practically melted into his skin. Alex watched him with wide eyes and chattering teeth.

Thomas hung the wet jacket on the coatrack by the door. He then kicked the rug over so it was under the jacket. He was not moping today, thanks.

Alex still hadn't moved, only wrapping his arms around himself. He looked a little blue around the lips. Thomas cussed and practically hurtled over the counter. He's never made a coffee so fast before. He moved back to the door and shoved the hot drink in Alex's hands. The man gripped it like a lifeline. Thomas wasn't done there. He coaxed Alex by a hand on his lower back to walk back behind the counter. He opened the oven that they bake croissants in and turned the heat full-blast. Within moments, the little area next to it grew toasty warm.

Thomas didn't relax until Alex stopped shivering and his eyes appeared more focused. When they clearly and consciously flicked over to meet Thomas' gaze, the barista sighed in relief.

"What the hell was that?" Thomas spoke quietly, his voice a bit shaken. "You never come in when it's raining, and when you do, you're clearly upset about it, _and_ you always have an escort. What makes you think you can show up _in this storm_ alone? Jesus Christ, Alex! What if you got hypothermia?! What if a car hit you? God knows no one can see in that. What if-"

"Wanted to see you."

The voice was so soft, so quiet, that Thomas almost thought he imagined it. His rant stopped mid-sentence, mid-word, mid-syllable, mid-thought, as he took in the information. He spoke. He _spoke_. And yeah, that's really amazing and cool and wow, he's not actually mute, that's strange, but Thomas was still mad. Still worried.

He crossed his arms. "What if I wasn't here?"

Alex shifted, not looking at him. He didn't reply, and Thomas felt the argument drain out of him. He sighed and closed the oven, turning it off. It was growing a bit _too_ hot, and Thomas felt the need to do something with his hands.

"Want some soup?" Thomas asked, "You still look cold."

Alex nodded, glancing up for just a moment.

That was how the two of them ended up sitting in a booth - not Alex's normal table, as the rain was too intimidating from there - eating hot bowls of chicken gumbo. Thomas didn't speak much, mulling over the thought that Alex came to this stupid, shitty coffee shop, in the middle of what could basically be a hurricane, just to see Thomas. He tried not to feel special. He tried to justify these actions in any way. He tried to not get his hopes up.

His thoughts were cut off by a shrill ringtone. Alex pulled his phone out from him pocket. It's screen appeared damp, but still manageable. Thomas could see John's name on the screen. Alex set the phone on the table and looked away from it, clearly ignoring it.

Now, Thomas was (obviously) not John's number one fan, but if his boyfriend disappeared during this storm, he'd want to know where he was, too. So Thomas reached across the table and pushed 'answer call', and then switched it to speaker.

Immediately John's worried voice came through, "Alex?! Alexander!? Dear God, where are you? Are you okay? Herc said you left and he doesn't know where you went and Eliza said that she saw you go out in the storm - are you an idiot?! You know- you _know_ how you get in storms! Are you _suicidal_!? Jesus Christ, say something now, please, anything, don't even speak, just knock of something, I need to know you're okay, please, Alex, please…"

Thomas watched Alex during the entire speal. The man kept his face turned towards the wall. Away from the storm. Away from the phone. Away from the world. He was very obviously not going to acknowledge the poor bastard on the phone, who sounded close to crying.

Thomas spoke up then. "John? It's Thomas. The barista from the coffee shop on Main Street?"

John distinctly swallowed, maybe trying to calm himself. "Okay."

"Alex is here. He's fine. I got some coffee and hot soup in him. He's okay." Thomas ducked his head a little, raising an eyebrow in a silent question. Alex noticed, and nodded, quickly looking away. Thomas reiterated, a little more confident, "He's okay."

"Am I on speaker?" John said quietly.

"You are."

"Alex I'm going to kill you when you get home. Herc, too. And Liz. And Angelica. We're gonna take turns beating the shit out of you for doing this to us. Do you realize how worried we were?! Do you even _think_ about-" There was a deep breath, John started again, shakier, "Alex, just, be careful. Stay with Thomas until the rain stops, will you? Please?"

Alex rolled his eyes, but nodded.

Thomas couldn't hold back his smile, "He says okay."

"Okay." John said, then again, "Okay. I'm glad you're safe, Alex. Enjoy your date, hope it was fucking worth it."

Alex reacted so quickly, Thomas jumped back slightly. The boy growled, honestly _growled_ , snatched the phone up and slammed the 'end call' button repeatedly. Thomas raised his eyebrow at the dark flush on Alex' cheeks.

Thomas could hold back the soft chuckle that escaped his lips, "Date, huh? That's a funny thing for your boyfriend to say."

Alex only scowled deeper, slowly looking up at Thomas. He shook his head, his lips parting softly. Thomas waited patiently, because it looked like Alex was going to speak again. But then the boy closed his mouth and looking down at his lap.

But now Thomas was curious, "You're not dating John?"

Alex shook his head again.

"Oh. But you always hung onto him when he came in." Thomas said, "And he's so kind to you."

There was a clap of thunder, and Alex almost jumped out of his seat. The boy pressed himself into the far corner of the booth, one hand clutching the table to tight his knuckles turned white.

Thomas connected the dots as quickly as he could. John wasn't affectionate because they were dating. He was affectionate because it calmed Alex down during storms. Before he could think, Thomas was sliding across to Alex's side of the booth.

The other man's eyes were distant, but Thomas gently coaxed Alex's cold hands into his own. He let Alex squeeze tightly. Thomas very slowly scooted across the bench, careful to not spook Alexander. Alex blinked hard and his eyes refocused on Thomas. His gaze snapped down to their joined hands and he lessened the tight grip, but didn't pull away.

Thomas smiled softly, catching Alex's gaze, "You're okay. You're inside, here with me."

Alex nodded once. Thomas shifted them so he could wrap an arm around Alex's shoulders. It took a second, but the man relaxed against Thomas' side. Thomas sent a silent prayer to every god that Alex couldn't hear how fast his pulse was.

After a moment of them sitting there, Thomas pulled out his phone and turned on some country music. Aaron hated when Thomas and James blasted their country music. He groaned and whined and complained through all the songs. But that didn't stop Thomas from humming along to Jimmy Buffett.

Thirty minutes or so of listening to various songs about trucks, tractors, and small towns, Alex spoke up. His voice was still quiet, but somehow firm, "This music sucks."

"You suck." Thomas sputtered, because he wasn't prepared for the comment. He was just trying to block out the sound of the storm, and now he's being attacked for his tastes. Why can't people just let him like what he likes? Why do they gotta throw their opinions in his face?

"Not for free." Alex looked up at him and winked.

Thomas grinned, "Oh yeah? What's your rates?"

Alex thought for a moment and then replied, "500."

"Per customer?"

"Per suck."

Thomas shook his head, "That's outrageous!"

"I'm a luxury few can afford." Alex's voice was growing louder now with each teasing tone. Thomas didn't want it to stop. His voice was silky; not deep, but not high either. It was something unique of it's own. It was something addicting.

He grinned as he said, "This is daytime robbery!"

"We can continue at night, if you'd like."

That made Thomas laugh. He shook his head as a thought came to him, "How do you keep track how much is owed? Do you count the sucks?"

"I make the customer count." Alex deadpanned.

"Kinky!"

A smile broke out across Alex's face as he watched Thomas laugh. Slowly, his own soft giggles spilled out from his mouth. They were still giggling when the door chimed open.

Thomas looked over to see his manager walking in, shaking an umbrella.

"Thomas!" The man called, "You can head home. I can handle this."

Thomas looked out the window, noticing that it's only barely sprinkling now. "You sure?"

"Yeah, it's suppose to get bad again in an hour or so. Better head out now, while it's still calm." His manager told him.

Thomas looked to Alex and nodded in the direction of the door, "Ready to go?"

Alex's gaze shifted from Thomas to the window behind him. He was quiet for a moment before he whispered, "Sure."

Thomas gets up and holds out his hand for Alex, smiling when the boy sends him a surprised look. Alex took his hand with some hesitancy, and let himself be led to the coatrack by the door. His jacket was still damp, so Thomas offered to carry it. But Alex shook his head and put the slightly weighted article on anyway.

Soon they were stepping out into the soft patters of rain.

"Where do you live?" Thomas asked, "I'll walk you home."

Alex gestured over to the direction of the dorms. Thomas started walking, letting Alex dictate the pace. He smiled when Alex pulled him closer by his hand. The boy was looking away, his cheeks a little pink.

The walked in comfortable silence. As the thunder rumbled in the distance, Alex tightened his grip on Thomas's hand. But Thomas simply brushed his thumb over Alex's knuckles.

As soon as they walked into Alex's building, a crowd of people ran up to them.

"Alex!" A pretty girl shouted as she flung herself into Alexander's arms.

Thomas let go of the boy, stepping back slightly as his friends surrounded him. Everyone was touching Alex, talking to Alex, screaming at Alex. The poor boy shrunk back slightly into his still-wet hoody, as a tall girl ranted at him. Thomas almost was jealous that so many people cared so deeply for Alexander. Thomas only had two friends. He suddenly wondered if either of them were worried about him.

"You have invented a new kind of stupid-"

"Are you okay? Are you sick?"

"Alexander Hamilton I cannot believe you! I was worried sick!"

"A damage you can never undo kind of stupid-"

"Why didn't you answer my calls?!"

"Hold on, it's my turn to hold him. God, he's shaking!"

"Open all the cages in a zoo, kind of stupid-"

"You stupid, reckless bastard!"

"Truly, you didn't think this through, kind of stupid!"

Alex spoke up then, raising his voice above the worried crowd. Thomas had never heard him speak so clearly before as he shouted, "GUYS!"

Everyone quieted instantly, waiting to hear his explanation.

Alex was quieter then, almost shy, as he said, "I'm okay. Thomas took care of me."

And now all these eyes were on him. Men and women alike observed him with various expressions. John, the only one Thomas recognized, shot him a thankful look, before turning to glare at Alex. Thomas awkwardly waved, staying quiet.

"If you ever do this again, I swear to God, Alexander-" The woman who was shouting started, but John put a hand on her shoulder.

"He's talking. Clearly, he's okay." John murmured, just loud enough for Thomas to hear. Alex shuffled awkwardly, looking away. "Now that he's here, you guys can go get some sleep."

The woman sighed, but nodded. She gave Alex a tight hug and whispered in his ear, "You're right though. He's _stunning_."

Alex blushed darkly and shot Thomas a worried look. But the southerner was awkwardly looking at his phone, wondering if he should leave.

James did text him a bit. But he didn't seem worried, per se. Probably because Thomas never cared about storms. Alex must have a _huge_ issue with them if all of his friends reacted so violently to him going out in one this bad. Thomas almost wanted to unlock his Tragic Backstory™, but knew better than to pry.

"Come on, Eliza, Peggy." The girl said. The other two hugged Alex quickly, pressing small kisses to his face, before they followed the first one out of the lobby to their dorms.

That only left John and another man standing in front of Alex. The second guy was fussing with Alex's wet jacket, tugging it off of his shoulders.

"Alex, this is fucking cotton, you can't get it wet like this…" The guy was mumbling, clearly trying to place his worry into something else, since Alex looks exhausted.

John took his hair down and used the rubber band to pull up Alex's own hair. Thomas watched as the two fussed over him. He knows that John and Alex aren't dating, but the way Alex leans into his touch and the clear relief in John's eyes was a bit too much.

"Well, I'm going to head out before it starts getting bad again." Thomas said, turning towards the door. Alexander immediately jerked out of John's grip and appeared by Thomas's side. Without saying a word, he plucked Thomas' phone from his hand and started typing on it. Thomas glanced over at John and the other guy, who were smirking at them.

His phone was being pushed back into his hand. Thomas looked down to see Alex saved his number and sent himself a message that said, " _Heyy sexy~"_ , Thomas snorted and rolled his eyes.

"I would have more class then that." Thomas informed the shorter man.

Alex held up his own phone and said with faux innocence, "Prove it."

Thomas opened his mouth to say something snarky, but John interrupted them. "Alex. It's late, let's go to bed. You can flirt with the barista when you're in warm clothes."

Alex's mouth snapped shut and his cheeks darkened. He scowled but quickly walked over to his friends, leading them out of the lobby. Thomas felt his heart flip when Alex glanced over his shoulder to offer a small wave.

As soon as Thomas made it to his apartment, he called James and retold him everything that just happened.

"AND HE CAN TALK!"  
"Yes, obviously." James said, sounding tired.

"What do you mean?"

"How did you _not know_ Alexander Hamilton could talk?" James asked.

Thomas hesitated, "You know him?"

"Yes, Thomas."

"And you didn't say anything!?"

"No, Thomas."  
"What!? Why not!?"

James hesitated, and then sighed, "I did a project with him for a class once. I wouldn't say I'm a fan."

Thomas scowled and said, "And why's that?"

"Fucker never shuts up." James replied, then yawned, "Look, Tommy. I'm glad that your little crush is returned-"

"I didn't say that." Thomas muttered, feeling his heart skip a beat.

"-but it's almost two in the morning. If you say one more word about Alex's eyes, I will kill you."

"But!"

Thomas heard the distinct click that meant that James hung up. Thomas looked down at his phone and scowled. But his friend was right. It was late, he should go to bed as well. Before he did, though, he looked at his messages. While Thomas was ranting to James, Alex had texted him.

 _I'm still waiting for you to prove your so-called 'class'_

Thomas thought for a moment, but his tired brain couldn't really come up with anything super classy to say. So he ended up typing out; _goodnight, beautiful_. He pushed send before he could psyche himself out.

* * *

Thomas had taken Alex for a walk in a nearby park. As they stopped to feed bread to the ducks, Thomas felt Alex's smaller hand very carefully slip into his own. Thomas froze, looking over at the boy.

Alex was looking out at the lake, his mouth moving, with no words coming out. Thomas looked down at their fingers, fixing their grip a little. When he looked up again, Alex was staring at him; an expression of determination in his eyes.

"Alex?" Thomas asked, his heart in his head and his head in the middle of nowhere.

"I- Thomas- will you-" Alex fumbled, his voice started out strong, but quickly it fell. He cleared his throat and started again, "It would be- if you would- if you wanted, I mean- I…"

"Alexander." Thomas had no idea what Alex was trying to say. He cupped one of Alex's cheeks in his free hand and smiled reassuringly. "Take you time."

Alex relaxed almost immediately. His shoulders lowered from their previously tense state. He nodded once and then took a deep breath. Then, carefully, slowly, and oh-so quietly, he said, "Will you… be my… boy… friend?"

A wide smile spread across Thomas' face as he whispered, "I would _love_ to."

They spent the rest of the little date bickering about whether or not it's safe to actually feed ducks bread. Upon looking it up, they discovered, that no, it's really not. So they ended up flicking pieces of bread at one another, like they weren't suddenly dating. Like this wasn't the best day of either of their lives.

* * *

They went on a few more dates. Thomas took Alex out to eat at fancy restaurants, where he had to order for both of them, because Alex simply couldn't get the words out. Thomas didn't mind, because once the waiter left, Alex was a ball of energy. He and Thomas ended up shooting snippy comments back and forth to each other as their feet tangled under the table.

Thomas found himself getting in trouble with his boss because he kept texting Alex while he was working. He didn't care. Anything Alex said was alway far more rewarding than his minimum wage check.

They became the number one couple on campus. Everyone knew who they were, and either loved or hated them. Either way, one of the two of them had something to say about it.

A very pretty girl - that Thomas thinks might be named Mary? Or Marie? - approached them and smiled at Alex as she said, "You two are such a cute couple, Alexander."

Alex grinned and waved her off, "It's mostly him. I try to be cute, but I just can't compare."

Thomas felt himself blushing as he muttered, "Goddammit, Hamilton."

Occasionally, there were those that shouted at them. Those that didn't like either one of them. Thomas never really did anything, unless Alexander fell silent. If Alex could scream and shout back, he wasn't actually hurt. But if Alex's lips locked up tight and his gaze fell to the floor, you can bet Thomas is bringing down the thunder on some homophobe's ass.

Alex had to pull Thomas off some guy one time because he already had two black eyes and a broken nose. "Thomas, it's okay! It's fine!"

"It's not, though!" Thomas shouted, "It's not fine, Alex! You deserve better than having people judge you for your lovelife! You shouldn't have to deal with that kind of negativity."

Alexander just stared at him, his eyes wide, and Thomas wasn't prepared for the kiss that he got for just saying what he thought. Alex kissed him until they were on the floor, next to the still-groaning bully. The guy only got up and walked away, limping slightly, when Thomas started moaning softly.

Would you believe that was their first kiss? It wasn't during a sunset. It wasn't at a movie theater, under the cover of darkness. It wasn't while they shared a bed. It wasn't even at the stupid coffee store. Their first kiss was shared because Thomas hated seeing Alexander uncomfortable. There was a small splatter of blood on the cement near Thomas' head as they let their tongues slide against each other's. Maybe it's not romantic, but it somehow fit them.

They kissed even as people walked by, staring or chuckling softly.

* * *

A year or so later, they decided they would move in together. Which meant apartment shopping. Which meant talking a lot to a lot of realtors, renters, and landlords. During the entire ordeal, Alex held Thomas's hand and looked around the rooms.

Occasionally, Alex would tug on Thomas's sleeve. Thomas would stop speaking mid-sentence, hold up a finger to whoever he was speaking to, and lean down so Alex could whisper in his ear. Simple things like, "need bigger room", or "like this kitchen". Thomas would take into consideration everything Alex told him, and eventually they found an apartment that fit them.

And every day after a long social gathering, Thomas would press soft kisses to Alex's face and whisper, "Baby boy, you did so good today."

"D'nt say anythin." Alex mumbled quietly, ignoring the light blush that grew on his cheeks. He loved getting praise, his body constantly glowed at it.

Thomas pressed a gentle kiss to Alex's nose. "You didn't have to. But you still did. Talked to me. You're so good, you know that?"

Alex stopped walking. "...Thomas?"

Thomas halted his steps and turned to look back at his boyfriend. "Yeah?"

Alex chewed his lip, hesitating. And that's how Thomas knew it was important. He waited patiently as Alex coaxed the words out of his mouth.

"... _Thank you_."

Thomas shrugged, saying, "No problem. I was just telling the truth."

"No, I mean-" Alex huffed a small sigh. He quickly took Thomas' hand in his and looked away, "Thank you for, you know… understanding."

Thomas wracked his brain for a second, trying to figure out what he understood. And then he realized. Alex was talking about, well, _talking_. It had never really been a big issue between them. Whenever Alex didn't want to talk, he just didn't. And when he did want to talk, it was like how James said. The fucker never shut up.

Thomas grew to love both sides of Alexander; both the mute and the chatter mouth. He adored that a simple complement could make Alex's words stutter and stumble to an awed stop. He loved that another complement could get those silenced words roaring to life. He loved everything about Alexander, really.

"Yeah…" Thomas said, his own voice a bit shaky suddenly, "Of course."

Alex shook his head, continuing, "Most of the time, people don't get it. Even John got frustrated with me. And it's just- you never did? You've always been super supportive of my silence? And I just… I mean… I've always loved that about you. But I could never tell you? I… I wanted you to know..." Alex swallowed, his gaze flicking up to look into Thomas' gaze, "It means more than I could ever properly express. So. _Thank you_."

Thomas was couldn't even feel his heart pounding from the warmth and pride and emotion welling in his chest. He couldn't see straight suddenly as his eyes grew watery. He huffed out a laugh, feeling a bit silly for getting emotional over being _thanked_.

He realized that what he felt was better than happiness. It was more than content. It was greater than ecstatic. He realized that the swelling of his chest was brought about by a deep and unbreaking love.

Thomas opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He didn't know what to say. He shook his head again and pulled Alexander into a long, tight hug.

Sometimes, this boy just moved him to silence.

* * *

Tell me what you think!


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